


You Never Know What You Have Until It's Gone

by Cherry101



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, I don't know, I spell Viktor with a k, I'm Sorry, Is it character death?, M/M, POV Multiple, Please Don't Kill Me, pure angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 06:27:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10848336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherry101/pseuds/Cherry101
Summary: A woman once said that, when you talk to someone, treat every sentence like it's the last thing you'll ever say to them.Never, not once, did Otabek think about actually heeding those wise words.He wish he had.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this in an hour. It's shorter than I would've liked, but... Hey. 
> 
> ...Please don't kill me.
> 
> *Hides*
> 
> Anyways, let me know what you thought in the comments! Tell me if you want a sequel, because I'll never write it if nobody wants one.

A woman once said that, when you talk to someone, treat every sentence like it's the last thing you'll ever say to them.

Never, not once, did Otabek think of heeding those wise words.

He wish he had.

Now, as he sat in a hospital waiting room, staring at the floor with his fingers crossed, he pondered what he would be doing if his last words hadn’t been so harsh.

_It started out as a disagreement, and a silly one at that, Yuri would admit. It was so fucking stupid. A restaurant. Hey Beka, can we eat here? But I made reservations for this place, Yura. But Beka, this is where I want to go._

_Yuri wasn't sure if he was expecting Otabek to readily agree, cancel the reservation, submit himself to Yuri’s whims. Whatever he was expecting, though, the crossed arms and stern look was not it._

_“Stop being so childish, Yura. I already paid. Now, come on.”_

Beside him sat Viktor and Yuuri. Yuuri was in tears, his muffled sobs not quiet enough for Otabek to ignore. He kept muttering about how all of this was his fault, not giving in to Viktor’s soft words of comfort.

Viktor himself seemed the least upset of the trio, but Otabek remembered his expression during the phone call, the dumbfounded, shocked, broken look in his eyes that had clued Otabek in on what may have happened.

“If I had just let him be… if I had paid attention…” Yuuri was saying in hollow whispers, barely loud enough for Otabek to hear.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to hear.

_“Childish? I'm not being childish!”_

_“Throwing a tantrum over where we eat?” Otabek gave a hollow laugh, “Sounds pretty childish to me.”_

_Yuri felt insulted. The restaurant he wanted to eat at had a patient, kind staff, whom he had visited several days before the competition they were there for._

_A staff that promised them a quiet proposal area._

_A proposal._

_The ring felt heavy in his pocket as he gritted his teeth, fighting down words of anger._

_“I have my reasons, okay? Please, I'll pay you back, Beka-”_

“Yuri Plisetsky?”

The nurse looked kind, concerned, as she approached the waiting room, clipboard in hand.   
Almost immediately, Otabek stood up, followed swiftly by the still crying Yuuri and Viktor.

“We're here for Yuri, yes.” Viktor was the one to speak, his voice lacking its usual chipper.

“Is he okay?” Otabek asked, his voice cracking halfway through the simple question.

He felt so… so guilty. There was a raging storm of emotions swirling around his brain, but he fought them all down, swallowing, mentally preparing himself for the worst.

_“As I said, childish.”_

_It was with the repeated insult that Yuri’s repressed anger swelled until it was too big to hold back anymore._

_“Well, you know what? Fuck you, Altin. I thought you trusted me, but evidently, I was wrong.”_

_Otabek let out a groan, clasping his hands together, “I do trust you, Yuri, but honestly-”_

_“What? Honestly what?”_

_“You're just proving my point here! You throw tantrums as if you're a spoiled child used to getting his way! I'm not your babysitter!”_

_Yuri exhaled, not taking notice of Viktor and Katsudon, who had entered the hotel lobby._

_“Fine. Fine. Forget it. You might as well cancel that reservation now anyways - cause I'm not going.”_

_With that, he spun on his heel, storming through the door. He didn't care where he was going - he just needed some space to think._

_“I'll go talk to him.” He heard Katsudon say._

“Mr. Plisetsky just came out of surgery. He isn't out of the woods yet, as he's in a coma right now, but his chances of survival rose from about 11% to 35%, which is a huge improvement.”

_35%?_

Otabek felt as though he'd been stabbed. The air left his lungs, and he gasped for breath, desperately reaching out for his boyfriend, his boyfriend, who was lying in a hospital bed with a 35% chance to live, who he loved more than anything in the world, who he had hurt so badly without realizing it-

“How bad are his injuries?” Yuuri’s voice was still barely a whisper, quivering.

The nurse sighed, “Well, several of his ribs were broken. We had to give him a lung transplant, as one of his lungs was completely destroyed while the other was badly punctured. He lost a lot of blood, so we had to give him a blood transfusion as well. There are several fractured bones, but, hopefully, those will heal with time.”

It was as if the horrid realization of what had happened hit Otabek again - a tidal wave, crashing down on him.

He almost lost him.

He almost lost Yuri.

Yuri was injured so badly…

_Yuri walked a relentless pace, shoving past people as he did._

_“Yurio! Wait up!”_

_“Fuck off, Katsudon,” he growled, “I don't need your sympathy.”_

_“I just want to talk-”_

_Yuri dodged more people, coming to a crossing. Lucky for him, the crossing light was on, and he shuffled across the street as the light started to count down. If he were lucky, he could lose Yuuri this way._

_But no, Yuuri was stubborn, and as soon as Yuri got to the other side of the road, he could hear Yuuri walking across as well._

_The sounds of cars were getting closer._

_Yuri turned._

_Yuuri hadn't made it across the street, because he was frozen in the yellow light of a car. A car going much to fast to slow down._

_Time seemed to stop, and Yuri dashed forward._

_“Yuuri!”_

_He slammed into the frozen man, knocking him to the ground. Then…_

_Pain._

_Red._

_Lights, swirling. Blinking. Blue. Red. Blue. Red. Blue. Red._

_A voice._

_“Stay with me, Yura, please. You're so strong… please, Yuri, breathe!”_

_Then, darkness._

The nurse lead the three men to a room, where Yuri was laying, resting in a bed. His skin was pale, and he was covered in bandages, with an IV drip in his arm.

Otabek made it to Yuri's bed before the tears began to fall, silently.

He gripped Yuri’s limp hand.

“Yura, I'm so sorry.”

_I'm sorry._

**_I'm sorry._ **

A woman once said that, when you talk to someone, treat every sentence like it's the last thing you'll ever say to them.

Now, as Otabek gripped Yuri's hand, the sounds of the heart monitor beeping and sniffles of the two men behind him the only sounds in the foreboding room, he crossed his fingers and prayed that his last conversation with his beloved Yuri was not truly his last.

_They say you never know what you have until it's gone._


	2. Drift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An argument. A childish argument.
> 
> He runs out.
> 
> He's followed.
> 
> The one following him is an idiot, clearly.
> 
> But Yuri loves him.
> 
> Loves him enough to shove him out of the way of an impeding car.
> 
> Pain.
> 
> Red lights. Blue lights. 
> 
> Panicked voices. 
> 
> Hands gripping him tightly, shaking him. 
> 
> A voice, begging him to stay awake.
> 
> His eyes flew open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's the sequel... I'm debating writing an alternate ending. Do you want me to continue? I'll do it if enough people ask XD 
> 
> Enjoy!

**Beep.**

 

**Beep.**

 

**Beep** .

 

White paneled tiles. Blank walls.

 

A voice.

 

Several voices.

 

**Beep.**

 

**Beep** .

 

“Carefully, carefully.”

 

“We’re losing him.”

 

“Yuri?”

 

Bright lights, swirling. Dizzying. Flashing.

 

**Beep.**

 

**Beep.**

 

“ _ Yuri?!” _

 

Darkness.

 

~~~~~~~

 

**Beep.**

 

**Beep** .

 

Pain.

 

It's everywhere - shooting through his spine, bursting through his lungs.

 

He can feel his chest rattle.

 

What did he do?

 

**Beep.**

 

**Beep** .

 

The lights are back, blinding, another source of pain against closed eyelids.

 

Pressure, against his hand. It’s warm, it's tight. 

 

He heard a sniffle.

 

His hand is wet. 

 

A voice.

 

“Please, Yura, wake up.”

 

The pressure tightened.

 

Yuri recognized the voice, he wants to speak, to open his eyes, but everything is so  _ heavy _ …

 

“ _ Please _ .”

 

**Beep.**

 

**Beep** .

 

Darkness.

 

~~~~~~~

 

**Beep.**

 

**Beep** .

 

He knew now that this was the third time he’d come close to waking. 

 

The lights are back. They're not quite as blinding as he remembered. 

 

That same pressure is there, squeezing his hand, and, this time, Yuri struggled to remain in this state of semi-consciousness. 

 

There are no words this time, and that sniffling sound he heard is gone.

 

The pressure is also in his hair, soft and light. Fingers, carding through the locks. It felt nice. 

 

**Beep.**

 

**Beep** .

 

The steady beeping, the only thing consistent in all of his memories, was what finally pressured Yuri into opening his eyes.

 

_ What is that noise? _

 

It's a struggle, because his eyes don't want to open, they're heavy with disuse, sore.

 

But he is Yuri Plisetsky, and he is strong.

 

Yuri cracked open his eyes, then blinked. Once. Twice. 

 

He met brown eyes, soft and warm, and dark hair.

 

“Yuri. You're awake.”

 

Katsudon smiled, a thin-lipped smile that did nothing to hide his clearly anxious expression. His eyes are bloodshot, puffy and red, and there are dark bags under them. 

 

Yuri wanted to say something, anything to erase the anxiety from the man’s expression, but there was something in his throat, preventing any attempt of speech.

 

He clawed at the foreign tube, attempting to dislodge it, pull it out, and he was stopped by a sturdy hand, brown eyes peering at him.

 

“You need that, Yura. It's helping you breathe.” 

 

Why does he need help breathing?

 

He doesn't remember.

 

Yuri allowed Katsudon to pull his own hands back down, and then those soft fingers went back to stroking his hair.

 

His eyelids were heavy.

 

He can't keep them open anymore.

 

Warm lips pressed against his forehead as his eyes closed.

 

“Sleep well, Yura.” He heard.

 

**Beep.**

 

**Beep** .

 

Everything faded to black.

 

~~~~~~~

 

_ An argument. A childish argument. _

 

_ He runs out. _

 

_ He's followed. _

 

_ The one following him is an idiot, clearly. _

 

_ But Yuri loves him. _

 

_ Loves him enough to shove him out of the way of an impeding car. _

 

_ Pain. _

 

_ Red lights. Blue lights.  _

 

_ Panicked voices.  _

 

_ Hands gripping him tightly, shaking him.  _

 

_ A voice, begging him to stay awake. _

 

His eyes flew open.

 

For once, his room was empty, silent except for the beeping of the machine in the corner of the room.

 

For once, he realized that there is an IV drip hooked up to his arm.

 

He was in the hospital.

 

The dream he had…

 

Did that really happen?

 

He doesn't get the chance to enjoy his solitude, though, because then his door opened, revealing the one person he simultaneously wanted to see more than anyone, and never wanted to see again. 

 

“Yura…”

 

Otabek sounded so heartbroken, so lost… Yuri realized that the elder probably didn't know Yuri was awake.

 

He strained to lift his head. It hurt. Everything hurt.

 

It was then that Otabek noticed him, with his weak attempt to sit up.

 

“Yuri!” 

 

Yuri barely had time to blink before Otabek was at his side. 

 

There were tears in the Kazakh’s eyes.

 

“Yura… you're awake…”

 

There were an abundance of feelings swirling through his head, and he didn't know what to feel. 

 

He remembered they had argued.

 

He also remembered that he had been planning on proposing.

 

He met the two memories in the middle, offering a weak smile to his boyfriend. 

 

The tube was still there, preventing his ability to speak, otherwise he'd greet Otabek.

 

Otabek perched at Yuri's side, gazing down at him with a soft fondness in moist eyes.

 

“How're you feeling?”

 

Yuri shot him an incredulous look.

 

“Right, right, you can't talk with the oxygen tube.” Otabek released a shaky laugh. 

 

His hand found Yuri’s hair.

 

The other hand found Yuri's own.

 

“Yuri…” The Kazakh started, lightly massaging Yuri's hand in his own, “Do you remember what happened?” 

 

_ Yes.  _

 

_ He thinks he does. _

 

_ The pain felt too real to be dreamt.  _

 

He nodded. 

 

The look in Otabek's eyes changed. He looked pained, biting his lip as his eyes fluttered shut, than open.

 

“Yura…”

 

Yuri sensed the apology in his voice before Otabek spoke.

 

“I'm sorry for hurting you.”

 

He couldn't speak, so he shook his head wildly. Of course, the brunette took that the wrong way, tears springing to his eyes.

 

Yuri clawed at the tube in his throat again, pulling it out before Otabek was able to register his actions.

 

“Yuri!”

 

He coughed, gasped for air, but it came, and he could breathe, and now he could talk.

 

“It wasn't your fault.” Was the first thing he said, his voice raspy and hoarse, cracking. 

 

“Still, I shouldn't have argued with you.” Otabek pressed a light kiss to his forehead, then another to his cheek, “You're not childish, Yura.” 

 

And Yuri wanted to laugh bitterly, because he was in the hospital, and he hurt all over, and he wondered if that was the only reason why Otabek was apologizing.

 

Nevertheless, it felt nice. 

 

Yuri wasn't sure how bad his injuries were, if he would recover enough to skate, or what was going to happen, but, at the moment, with Otabek hunched over him, gazing at him lovingly while stroking his hair, he felt safe. 

 

He was alive.

 

The feeling of his fingers lulled Yuri into a daze, a trance, and his eyes closed again.

 

“Sleep, Yura,” He heard as he drifted off, “I'll be here when you wake.”

 

They had argued, but it was okay now, it had been a silly, pointless argument, and they were better. 

 

Everything was good now.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
